The BLTS Archive - China Berry
fifth in the China series
by R. Schultz (cousindream@aol.com)

---

Disclaimer:  Star Trek is copyright Paramount and ViaBorgCom.  I am
using the Universe and characters abandoned.  Shame on you guys!  I
promise to put your characters right back.  This story is common-law
copyrighted by myself.  Don't sue.

Spoilers: None, set after sixth year.  Written December, 2001 AD  4000
words.

This fiction is intended for the DFF, the Doctorfuh-qFest.  Later it
will be archived at the ASCEM.

---

The worst part was probably being upside down, excepting the fact that
I could see right down to the parking jetty seven or nine stories
below me.  Those little waves beating against the concrete didn't look
at all cute any more.

My legs were splayed, trying to get purchase on this steep slope.
Part of my blouse was gone along with a few square centimeters of
breast and other skin.

My Communicator wasn't working, so I assumed it was gone, somewhere in
that exquisite cerulean sea.  My muscles were shaking, the strain was
making my arms quiver, not a good sign.

I hurt.

Please someone rescue me, I thought.  I don't want to die of a stupid
fall down to another stupid guard rail below me.  I could really see
the parkplatz below very well, over my bleeding hands.

Up here a crumbling concrete guard rail, down there a beautiful little
parking pull-off so people could drive by and contemplate a beautiful
sea.

Sticking out into the sea so that I'd land on it instead of some of
that azure sea.

Behind me, above me, I could hear my fellow tourists debating what to
do to save me.  I wish they'd get on with it.  I don't know how much
longer I can keep myself from going over this edge and falling to that
magnificent view below.

Be a hell of a thing for so noted and brilliant a doctor as myself to
get scrunched on a damned road guard rail.

Just then a grinding and nasty slithering noise erupted from my left.
The remains of the damned road rail I had leaned against, I
immediately thought.

The pain was absolutely beyond belief.

It took a few quivering seconds for me to realize I'd been wounded
again by the remains of the road guard rail.  Part of it had struck
and stuck in a part of the slope I was on.  It had just went loose,
and in sliding off, it had struck me hard in the side.

I saw it fall onto the guard rail down below.  I could see a wash of
blood, my blood, spray onto my arms and the rock in front of my face.

I never hurt so bad ever before in my life.  Not even when giving
birth to Wesley.  In those seconds I almost went over.

Eventually I understood that the cable railing had whipped in falling,
and sliced my left side open down to and past my ribs.  I could feel
the eagle effect as my lung desperately tried breathing through my
side.  I no sooner thought of it before I saw a runnel of my blood go
over the edge of my slope.  The blood splayed into nothing in the
light breeze.

I got really scared.  I was shaking and I was bleeding to death and I
think my left lung was filling with blood.  Doctor Crusher was going
to die in not too many minutes ahead.

I spit out a gout of blood, and the convulsion of pain almost pushed
me over.  I had to spit out another mouthful of blood and I
analytically determined I probably had not more than ten or twelve
minutes before I passed out from blood loss.

I'd never had much kinship with my parent's austere Presbyterian
religion, but the precepts suddenly rushed back.  I was going to die,
and I began to list my debits and my debtors, my graces and my losses.

I recalled one man who died under my hand.  We were on-planet, the
ship was far away, and I wept because I didn't have the facilities for
so MANY casualties.  It was one very bad day when he wasn't the first
nor the last.  In a quiet moment afterward, I had to collapse against
a tree, lie down and cry desperately.  I felt so useless in the face
of so much death.

This crewmate I knew to be both a womanizer and at times a heavy
drinker.  A sinner, as my father might have said.  Lost to safety.
This man had known the death he was facing, and he had tried to smile
for me.  They, the dying, so often tried to comfort us, the living.
They would hold our hands and try to gather bravery for us both.

"Don't'cha worry, dove.  God's a gentleman, he has to be, or none of
us could get in, you know."

My arms were shaking and I spat another mouthful of blood.  Be a
gentleman for me.  I had to spit more blood.  I watched it
disintegrate into the breeze as it runneled off the edge.

Goodbye life.

Behind me I heard someone shout.

"Selar to ENTERPRISE!  Hello, please respond!  Two to beam out!

"Oh, SHIT!  Well, on to plan B."

Noises.  A wild cry.  I spat more blood.

What happened next was pure pain, white noise and surprise.

I was in space.  I was one complete body of pain and surprise.

I was in the sky, my whole body one roaring bed of pain.

I was falling.  I could accept my death now.

"HOLD TIGHT!" Selar roared.  She had twisted us in our long fall to
where we were face to face during our plummet.  Her arms constricted
me to her until I could not breathe.

We were already fathoms in the water before I understood we had struck
water, not concrete.

Selar had JUMPED from the road above.  She had landed on me, and the
force of her fall propelled both of us out into free-fall space.

It had been a desperate gamble, something to throw us both clear of
the parkplatz below.  She had held us together in mid-air.  She had
held us together as we sank into the water.  She had ignored a dozen
deep lacerations to herself, including the breaking of her broad
shoulder bone on jutting spurs of the parkplatz.

T'Pas Selar had saved me.  We both might have died, but she had
gambled that it was not yet time for either of us.  All this I
discovered later.

Greater love hath no friend than that she would give up her life for
me.

Selar had held her hand over my mouth until I was on my way up.  Until
I understood I was not to try breathing water.  As my head came out of
water, I had to draw a deep breath.  Which immediately prompted me to
cough out a mouthful of blood.

Selar -- T'Pas -- turned and grasped some of the concrete parkplatz
beside us.  Pulling us both to safety.  I think she poked and prodded
me in spots ladies weren't to touch so firmly, but she got me under
the cable railing and onto a flat surface.  I lay there, trying to
breath, spitting more blood and passing out.

My last memories were of Selar pressing my ribs shut, it hurt a
goddamned lot, and she said; "You poor baby."  That last felt good.
Don't anyone think it don't feel nice to be babied, to be taken care
of.

---

The second smaller moon was visible, far out in its 135 day orbit,
when I knocked on the gangplank.  There was no response at first, so I
knocked again.  The third time I knocked on the forepost.  By then I
was on the deck of the house barge.

"Come," she finally responded.  "My home is your home"

Actually it was just a rented boat.  One of the many barges in Teppes'
teeming harbor.  There were side curtains here to give privacy, and
maybe a little warmth.

Doctor Selar lay full length in a peach-colored pool, an oversized
bathtub.  From the comfortable mist, it was heated, and scented.  I
had expected something exotic in her bath scent, but it was simple
Terran citrus.  I could see the globular bottle.

T'Pas Selar was on her side, but she smoothly rotated until she
floated on her belly and I was faced with a long view of her
immaculate back and butt.  They had repaired her well.  Me too.
Starfleet was paying.

She smiled a little at me, maybe making a statement about my
reputation as a lady lover.  I sat on a stool for a moment, watching
the perfection of her wet Vulcan skin.

"Vulcan is a dry planet for the most part," she said.  "Unlike many I
indulge in the soothing balm of fresh water when possible.  It is very
refreshing."  She looked at me, then she raised her hand in
invitation.

"I've spent many credits for this luxury of mine.  Fresh water eases
my many troubles.

"Would you please join me in my bath, Doctor Beverly Howard Crusher?
It is quite large enough to hold us both, with ease.  It is also a
cheating way to ascertain whether our compatriots gave you truly
invisible scars.

"And I would enjoy rubbing your fine pale skin with my own oils."

She was the person who brought me life itself.  She was beyond
understanding.  Her life became forfeit when she jumped upon my
collapsing body, on that cliff slope.

I rose up, enjoying bones and muscles and skin that once more sang
with health and strength.  T'Pas Selar, friend and comrade for several
years, was inviting me to be her lover.  She was seducing me, or
allowing me to seduce her.

"Please undress slowly," she added when I rose up to strip.

Selar barely breathed a few names in the night, ordering her ship's
computer to play a music for me to strip to, to dance to, to be
romantic to.

"Gregorious, "The Free City", Second Act, allerong, Tiffany at
violin," she gave me.

So I undressed slowly, twisting in a light breeze that was full of
scents, full of planetary vigor and life.  Sometimes we on the
Starships forget from whence we came.  We came from such places as
this, full of lives and our history.

Rolling in the slow gypsy strings and background chorus.  Breathing in
fish oil, lubricants from the multitude of small engines, humanity,
and especially the tang of salt and human residue.  Beyond us small
boats or great barges went by, in the main channel.

It was a magical time.  A time I had not expected, a time of allure
and the faint touches of Selar as she turned and smiled in her
luxurious bath.  Each teasing dance step and touch left lingering dots
of hot embers on my flesh.  Dear T'Pas writhed in her tub, her right
hand feverishly busy in her own groin as she watched.

From a friendly visit, this had suddenly turned into a seduction.  I
was being seduced by my years-long friend, my fellow worker.

My savior.  And now maybe my lover.  I had not known she favored
women.  As a Vulcan I had not even been aware she WAS a sexual person.
I had thought Vulcan's were too tightly controlled for passions and
lusts as we knew them.

When I removed my loose shiny gold blouse, T'Pas rose from her bath
far enough to take it from me.  She closed her eyes and swathed her
face with it.  Drawing in the scents of perfume and soap and sweat and
woman.  I gave her the metallic gold scarf from around my neck and she
chewed on it, enjoying the taste of me.

When I removed my bra a coaster began to go by, the crew with its
zooms intent on viewing my warmed naked body.  I tweaked my nipples
for their view, hurting my breasts with a strong kneading and
pinching.  Selar rose to her feet and I gave each in turn to her
sucking and biting mouth.

Selar saw what I was doing, how I was sexing the passing sailors.  She
stretched to her full height, gleaming from her bath, an impossible
double vision for the sailors to take with them on the voyage.  Pale
redhead and large-breasted Vulcan woman in her prime.  We both knew
much masturbation would occur on that ship.  Sailors reliving the
erotic exotic spectacle of our sapphic foreplay.

We leaned together for the sailors, pinching each other's nipples,
kissing more and more passionately.  While we kissed I began coaxing
my pants to my ankles.  For minutes I masturbated for them, one hand
in my golden satin unders.

Then my hand went to T'Pas.  Her breast, her belly button, her soft
belly, the midnight growth of her pubic hair.  I penetrated her as she
penetrated me.  We kissed and stroked and played and gave and took.  I
kicked off my pants, then lost my unders.  I was naked, as was T'Pas.
Only my skin did not gleam from light striking a wet skin.

As the sailors rushed to the fantail to keep us in view, we twisted to
face them.  T'Pas hand snuck down the front of my belly, massaging me,
masturbating me, loving me.  Mine caressed her perfect ass, her firm
belly, her sleek flanks and hips.

She was ....  She was making me come.  My finger was making her come.
The sailors cheered, we could hear them.  Then they were gone and I
had to lean against the strength of my new lover in my after-come
weakness.  She eased me down into her warm bath, her hands never
stopping in their race to discover some part of me that had not yet
been caressed.

That had been quite a rush.  I'd never thought I could be rushed into
a relationship, if that was what it was, so fast fast fast!
And a major bout of exhibitionism as well.  I LIKED coming in front of
all those strangers.  It not only made me feel hot, it make me feel
naked and sexy all over.  Like I was wearing a DeepSuit built of sex
sex sex!

This was going to be an interesting relationship.  The mere fact that
it was with a Vulcan made it different already.  Vulcan's didn't think
exactly like humans.  I was not only worked up sexually, already, but
I was intrigued.  My pussy was anticipating many unique fun times.

For the moment she was composed of all my previous lesbian encounters,
and then some.  Enjoying the buoyancy and pleasure of warm scented
water, I wriggled in comfort as we drew each other together in the wet
cocoon she had provided.  Murmuring nonsense words, we kissed and
fondled and caressed.  It had evidently been too many months since
Troi had thrown me over for Worf.  I was ready for a woman like Selar.

This felt so damned good, the way I could feel the curves and skin and
pleasures of another female.  From the patterns and words and fervid
touchings, T'Pas, faithful companion and fellow Doctor Selar, she was
remarkably different from any other woman I had ever held in lesbian
contact.

She loved to skitter from spot to spot of my body, she licked the same
places on the neck or chin.  She bit the same nipples, she licked
palm's the same way.

And though she might be Vulcan, she wriggled the same way when my
fingers worked their way through the magnificently large forest of jet
black pubic hair she grew.  Not coarse curly black hair, but straight
and fine, black hair built for searching through.  Not even Natasha
Yar and her dark yellow growth had been so fine, so soft, so baby
smooth and silken-textured.  Much smoother than the fine hair on
Selar's head.

I could happily spend much time some day handling, licking, smoothing,
sucking this hair.  I loved its texture, its pliancy.

I began to find the pertinent points of her groin, fascinated by the
feel of my hands searching through her gentle hairy groin.  Her clit
was hard, erect, and partly surrounded by a circling of minor
protective flesh.  It barely lifted from its place at the top of her
pussy, but I could feel the steel inside that tiny miniature prick, a
few millimeters long.

I could roll it between my fingers, realizing Vulcans had something
far closer to a miniature prick than any human woman had, for all the
fact it was barely millimeters long.

Once I got my now dear T'Pas to bed, it was going to a marvelous
pleasure to eat her out.  Such gorgeous groin hair, such a stupendous
little prick to suck, and I still didn't even know how she tasted when
she came.

My fingers found her vaginal slot.  They followed the perfect defile
which led me to her lovely pussy hole.  Her labia seemed puffy to my
touch.  Then her vaginal opening tried to clasp my first intruding
finger hard.  She was very tight, and I didn't try to insert more than
the single finger.

Instead of mutually fucking me, T'Pas continued caressing me, kissing
parts of me, licking me.  She carefully told me, instead, what to do,
when to do it, how to do it as I carefully and lovingly fucked her,
hard, with that finger.

It was my first contact with single minded Vulcan sexuality.  She was
cute, but she was being different.  A first lesson about not confusing
similarities of Vulcan conduct with Vulcan complete similarities of
sex, period.

Like I said, she was unbelievably cute, but she wasn't human.
Fortunately, in months to come, her patience and my patience added up
to some horrendously hot sex coupled with a lot of giggling.  As an
example, she'd never had any lesbian sex before she invited me into
her bathtub.

I had me a cherry, and hadn't known it at the time.  You could have
fooled me.  How many years had I worked next to this woman and not
known the complexities in her?

"Keep rubbing my clit with your palm," she said.  "Now feel in my
cleft with your fingers," she instructed.  She didn't want to
masturbate me at the same time.  She wanted to instruct me.  I've got
to admit it was novel.  You always tell a new girlfriend to let you
know what to do.  It'll still takes months to discover all her ‘hot'
points, and her other erogenous points, and what just simply didn't
turn her on.  T'Pas was taking me for a guided tour first thing.
Vulcan logic.

It made my first sex thing, contact, with her, a tad bit analytical,
but like I said, everything about her seemed cute somehow.  A virgin
Vulcan.

I used the one finger inside her, it was really hot somehow.  Her
instructing became incoherent mumblings very quickly, and she turned
into just another woman enjoying herself.

He hands turned to claws as it got good, her words were mere
mumblings, she jerked, she was spastic, she bent over that single
intruding finger.  I fucked her faster, and the noises got sucky and
wet and foot-in-the-mud.

Finally she wailed and one Vulcan fist glued my hand to her groin, one
finger inside her.  She became tearful, loud, gritting her teeth.
She came gloriously for me, she made me feel proud.  I couldn't kiss
my new Vulcan on the mouth enough, she couldn't get enough of my
kissing.

At approximately this time, usually, I'd drag my spastic lover,
mumbles and all, to the nearest soft bed.

Later.  I felt there was no hurry with this one.  She was going to be
my lover for a long time to come.  Maybe it was too soon after Troi
had abandoned me, and Worf had hurt me, but that was a chance I was
going to have to take.

She dialed the bath water hotter to combat the evening coolness and we
both comfortably settled into each other.  The hell if my skin got a
little pruney.

---

T'Pas called the moment when we'd had enough bath.  She had a number
of warm robes, terry cloth with a modern ply in between.  We shared a
few towels, myself again enjoying that soft groin full of fine hairs
T'Pas wore.  She left her robe open, leaning against a wardrobe nailed
to the deck.  She smiled and we kissed as I immersed my hand in her
perfect forest of delightful pubic hair.  I could become seriously
addicted to fondling her body hair.  I looked forward to the moment
when I could immerse my face in it.

She led us to a small fold-down table that constituted her galley
table.  She pulled out two large tulip glasses for us, both with
magnetic bases.  She took two different bottles out of a stasis bank
next to her galley stove, letting both fall into spacious bottle
pockets attached to the sides.

Both had been opened so that they might breathe.  Vulcans planned
ahead.  I got a dish of smoked fish, she got a bowl of stiff munching
vegetables.  How civil we were!  We rubbed feet underneath the table.

She poured me a dollop of her wine, letting me taste her wine of
choice.

"Aahhh!" I said.  "Very sharp, I don't know if I like it.  What is
it?"

"It's descended from a Terran plant, once termed the China Berry,"
T'Pas explained.  "Since its introduction to Vulcan we've made many
changes to it.  Now its berry produces a wine we Vulcans find
immensely aromatic and sharp, as you have noticed, and pleasing to our
palate's.  Humans generally don't appreciate the subtleties of its
taste, but prolonged exposure to it seems to awaken appreciation by
homo sapiens," she said.

I poured the other wine, my Vulcan not advanced enough to read it.
"Currant berry wine, much closer to Terran tastes, no?" she asked.
"It is something which we are slowly altering in the old way.  We are
not in any hurry to enjoy our next aromatic Terran offering.  We have
the time on Vulcan.  It may take a hundred years for a branch to breed
true, as well as give joy to our senses.

"Can you understand that, Beverly Crusher?" she asked.  "We Vulcans
can be very patient.  We might wait what you consider a very long time
to enjoy our wine just as we like it.

"Just as I've waited for you, for several years.  Now the moment is
ripe, prime, for the two of us, and I am ready to decant the mellowed
wine of our love."  What an incredibly romantic phrase!

"Are you not now able to join with me, to love me?  I have loved you
for all these several years," she said.  "Now you are prime, and on
this night I have finally decanted you.  You are now a superb wine,
very mellow, very ripe.  Now we can be together, now we can make love
in passions not possible before for us.  This is our time."

We were civilizing together.  I vaguely masturbated myself and had
cold thinly sliced fish and square buttery crackers and tastes of my
tart sharp tasty wine.  Trying small slips of T'Pas black-red liquid.
I could see where prolonged exposure to it might bring an acceptance
of its taste.

Maybe Selar was an acquired taste as well.  Cute, incredibly cute.
But she wasn't human.

Looking directly into her black eyes, I asked her; "Did you save me
like that, so incredibly, did you do it because you hoped to be my
lover?"

"Of course not," she said.  "I saved you because you were my friend.
Vulcans do not value true friends lightly.

"We especially value our human friends because we know we will never
understand you.  But it is enough that we take some of you as friends.
The friendship is enough, all by itself.  Nothing more is needful,"
she pointed out.

"And am I not your friend as well?"  I nodded acceptance.

"That is good," she said.  Rising, she gave me her hand.  She pointed
us to her .... bed.  She had no bed, just a legion of colored
cushions.  Selar murmured to the night air again, and Rachminoff came
to comfort us in our Arabic seraglio.

Strings groaned as a now naked Selar reclined back into her nest of
pillows.

Such a cute woman!  Beautiful from any view.

Her pubic forest was heaven to smell and wallow in.  I cannot begin to
describe the savory butter her come was.

---

End -- China series